


Don't tell me what to do

by Sylvalum



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Hopeful Ending, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-25
Updated: 2019-02-25
Packaged: 2020-01-06 00:24:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18377138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sylvalum/pseuds/Sylvalum
Summary: “I was serious too,” Tony replies. “Do I just make so many jokes that nobody in this house takes me seriously?”“Yes,” Steve says immediately. And something in Tony cracks just a bit.or: Steve and Tony get better at communicating, feat. civil war





	Don't tell me what to do

 

Tony saunters in at some hour between midnight and dawn, and he’s honestly only using the word _sauntering_ because it sounds better than _stumbling_ , and there in the kitchen he finds the coffee machine. Guarded by Steve, unfortunately, who immediately aims in on Tony when he makes a move towards it.

Tony says the first thing that comes to mind. “Do you think I should install lights in the tables?”

Steve frowns. “What?”

“Lights. In the tables. The whole table could be a lamp, isn’t that a bright idea?”

“Why?” Steve frowns further. He’s adorable like that. “Tony, it’s 2 am-“

“And you’re awake!” Tony points at Steve. “Bad boy, you should be asleep, you’re setting a dreadful example here, Rogers.”

Steve visibly stops himself from replying _no you should be asleep_. “How long have you been awake?”

“Around two thousand and five hundred minutes,” Tony says, because it’ll get Steve to make some funny expressions. Then, because he doesn’t _actually_ want Steve to start chiding him, he says, “It’s fine, I’m going to bed when I’m done.”

“And when will you be done?”

That’s just the question, isn’t it? When will he ever be done? If he closes his eyes he sees the stars. He sees a black void. He sees a portal, a gaping tear in the sky, he sees the Avengers all dead. He sees Steve dying oh-so-slowly in his arms and it’s all on Tony. He’s the one who needs to stop it before it can even happen, he needs them to be prepared; Tony’s the one who makes their gear, so he needs to _make them better gear_. He’s the futurist, and _here it is_ , the dystopian future, and he’ll solve it because he has to, because who else?

“I definitely hope to be done at some point in this century,” Tony says flippantly in answer. “Maybe I’ll even _sleep_ in this century, too.”

“Tony,” Steve says. His tone says the rest.

“In two hours,” Tony concedes. Maybe some rest would be beneficial.

Steve just sighs, still disappointed. Always disappointed. “I’m serious, Tony. You need rest.”

“I was serious too,” Tony replies. “Do I just make so many jokes that nobody in this house takes me seriously?”

“Yes,” Steve says immediately. And something in Tony cracks just a bit.

(he’ll _have_ to fix it before it happens, before they can all die _, he’ll fix it somehow_ , because _who else_ when nobody even believes there’s a danger-)

“Shall we pinky-swear on it?” Tony replies sweetly, fluttering his lashes. Carefully nonchalant. He holds out a hand. “In two hours, I’ll go to bed.”

“You shouldn’t drink so much coffee,” Steve says. “It can’t possibly be good for you.” And then he gets up and leaves.

 

 

* * *

 

 

If _Steve_ told the Avengers that something was coming…

The thing is, Tony doesn’t inspire loyalty. Or friendship, or kindness, or basic politeness either. He’s a fake through and through, fake confidence and false indifference, he tells small basic lies every day, _I’m fine_ and _I don’t know_. Maybe he didn’t try hard enough. Maybe he tried too much. Maybe he’s just so wrong he can’t ever really fit in the puzzle.

Either way, they don’t listen to him. Why the fuck _would_ they, after Ultron?

But they all trust in Steve. Why _wouldn’t_ they? He practically radiates trustworthiness. He’s capable, he’s clever, he’s _good_. He’s friends with them.

If Steve told the Avengers that something was coming…

(Tony tosses the sheets away and stumbles out of bed to hide in the workshop.

Is it helping? Is he accomplishing anything? _Is this it_?

 _I don’t know_ )

 

 

* * *

 

 

The Accords really put a new perspective on everything.

He didn’t think it’d get this bad.

You learn something new every day, _isn’t it so_ , and Tony puts a new arc reactor in his chest.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It’s been weeks.

When they were staying in Wakanda, Steve used to think of the compound as _home_. It all seems so stupid now – it’s nothing like what it was. He could’ve called how it was before for ‘home’, _before_ when nobody here had fought and maimed each other. _Before_. What does it matter that they’re back and pardoned because nothing’s like it used to be, they’ve lost it, he’s lost it _again_ , and he keeps losing and losing and-

He never felt this guilty in Wakanda, either. But here _everything’s_ a reminder of all that happened.

Steve sat down yesterday to draw a view he remembered from Wakanda, and instead he sat there and stared at his _pens_ for fifteen minutes, wallowing in misery. It’s so dumb because he doesn’t even regret his decisions! The Accords, he doesn’t regret it! He doesn’t! Except for the little bits of it he _does_ regret but it was all or nothing and he couldn’t just-

He’s stopped shaving too. And he doesn’t even know what anyone thinks of it, of his sad new look, because _nobody talks to each other anymore_. One time he walked in on Wanda and Vision talking quietly and they both spun around like he had caught them making out on a table.

At least technically, they’re all living in the compound together.

(And technically, they’re all just fine.)

 

 

* * *

 

 

Steve’s sitting hunched at the table, in the dark, turning his empty water glass over and over and over, when Tony steps in and turns on the light. Then Steve looks at him, and Tony stands there frozen in the doorway, deer in the headlights. His hair stands up like he’s been running his hands through it, and he’s wearing casual clothes through which Steve can see the shape of the new arc reactor which is like a stab to Steve’s gut, and Tony’s expression when he sees him is like he’s been hit.

“I can go,” Steve’s saying, standing up, grabbing for his glass. Trying to forget Tony’s expression, like it’ll go away if he doesn’t look at him.

“Don’t,” Tony’s saying back. “I don’t mind.”

Steve slumps down. He keeps his eyes firmly fixed on his glass, hears Tony start to walk through the kitchen, open cupboards. Use the tap. Pull out a chair, and Steve’s eyes flick upwards without him agreeing to it, finding Tony.

He doesn’t know what to say, but he has to say _something_. There’s too much of it, this is the first time he’s been alone with Tony since before Siberia, what is he supposed to _do_?

“Have you been sleeping?” Steve asks, stupidly, because he’s an incompetent fool at everything that isn’t destruction.

“Really?” Tony says. “What the fuck kinda question is that?”

“You don’t look very well,” Steve says helplessly.

If Tony threw his water at Steve it’d be – fair. Expected. And of course Tony doesn’t do it, he just gives him a scathing look and takes a sip, and if he _had_ thrown his water at Steve it would’ve been perfectly fine as long as he wouldn’t have left after. But now he’s getting up, and he’s leaving, and Steve fucked up-

“I’m sorry,” he says. Trying to fit everything into those two words. “I’m sorry.”

“Really,” Tony repeats.

It’s so terrible, how it is so easy to realise things when it’s already too late. Steve didn’t realise what they had, friendship and a home, until they had already lost it. Maybe it wasn’t what he thought he’d have, and maybe they sometimes argued, shouted, disagreed, but they were a _team_ , together and so much better for it and now it’s all ruined. All gone.

“I shouldn’t be the leader,” Steve says, without planning to. “I messed up, and I shouldn’t-“

“Shouldn’t lead the team? Is that what you’re saying?” Tony snaps. “Are you feeling guilty? Great! But don’t you fucking shove your responsibility at me, I’m done with it, I’m _done_. The public doesn’t trust us and this so-called team doesn’t trust _me_ , they trust _you_ , and you’re – what, backing out? You don’t get to do that you asshole, _there’s no team without you_!“

 _But you hate me, you don’t want me here, and I hurt you and I can’t get anything right-_ “Then I’ll do it,” Steve says resolutely, wondering when on Earth his throat got so tight. He can’t even look at Tony anymore. “I’ll just lead the team, make some more bad decisions…”

“Are you trying to guilt-trip me?” Tony scoffs. And then he asks, alarmed, “Are you _crying_?”

“No,” Steve says immediately.

“Shit,” Tony says.

“I’m sorry,” Steve answers miserably.

Tony starts walking around the table and Steve turns so that Tony can’t see his face, wondering hysterically about how things ended up this way.

“Steve, c’mon,” Tony sounds awkward. He’s _never_ awkward. “If you really can’t be the leader then-“

“No, I’ll do it.” Steve clears his throat. “I’ll do it.” _But I can’t if things are gonna stay this wretched forever, I can’t I can’t I can’t-_

“But?” Tony can be perceptive. He’s hovering behind Steve now, and Steve is looking at his own hands, twisting on the table.

_It’s my fault that we’re all like this but I can’t stand the silence._

“I missed you.” Steve exhales. “I missed you, and I know it’s all my fault things happened like this but _I miss you_. I miss how things were like before, I miss the team, I miss Thor and Bruce, and I miss your rants, I miss team dinners…”

“You missed me?” Tony asks tonelessly, which is maybe better than yelling.

“Yes.”

Tony sighs and pulls out the chair next to Steve, and Steve can’t help but glance at him. He drops into the chair almost aggressively, staring Steve down, and Steve wipes a sleeve over his face, self-conscious.

“Stop making it so emotional, Steve,” he then mutters.

“I’m sorry,” Steve says again. He’ll say it again and again and again because it never seems enough, and it never felt this bad back in Wakanda, back when he didn’t see Tony every damn day.

“Stop apologising!” Tony exclaims. “Just – what do you want?”

“I don’t know.” _To be at your side_. “All of this to never have happened?”

“Ha,” Tony says. Then, “Are you feeling better now? Because I really want to go back to bed.”

“Yeah,” Steve says because he can’t say any of all the rest he wants to say. He settles for a soft, “Goodnight, Tony.”

Tony’s expression twists all up before his face goes blank. “Goodnight.”

 

 

* * *

 

 

Tony is bad with apologies. He’s not good at apologising, and he’s even worse at receiving and accepting apologies, and while he’s sure a therapist could dig up a bunch of reasons for _that_ from his childhood, he really doesn’t want to hear them. Just like he doesn’t want to hear Steve’s endless ‘ _I’m sorry_ ’s – what the fuck do they help with? What is Tony supposed to do with them? What is Tony supposed to do with any of it?

Steve may have had a point: things aren’t returning to normal. Everyone balances everything so carefully, walking on eggshells, and _god_ what is the point? They already had that big explosion that tore the team apart, the worst _already happened_ , they might as well just stop caring.

Still Steve lingers in rooms for small moments after the others have left, shoots small looks at Tony when he thinks Tony won’t notice. It’s days until Tony gets the chance to tell him, “Just because we’re on talking terms doesn’t mean we’re ‘ _friends’_ , Rogers.”

“I know,” he says, quietly. “Sorry.”

Tony wants to bang his head on the table.

“Do you actually mean it?” he asks instead. Casually draping himself over his chair, casually raising an eyebrow because _no the answer won’t hurt him no matter what it is_. “Did you just get stuck saying it? Or do you regret even a single thing you did?”

“What do you think?” Steve snaps. Then he immediately backs down, which is great fucking great because a screaming match would be so terribly annoying. “I regret not telling you about your parents’ murder. I never meant to hurt you.”

 _But you did_. Tony did read that letter, though. Whatever good it did for any of them.

“Would you do it again?”

Steve takes a moment to answer that. “I don’t want to,” he then says. “I’d never want to.”

Is that good enough?

Tony doesn’t know. Yet he says, “Then you’re forgiven,” because there is no way they can keep this up, they need to be a real team if something happens again, see this is all for the _Earth_ , nevermind that Tony missed Steve and the Avengers too. He shouldn’t have. (but sometimes Tony would miss one of his exes who hurt or used him, too, because they were kind at first) But let’s move on, _shall we?_

Steve gives him a doubtful look.

Tony sighs. “I’d like it if you learned to listen to me.”

“Sorry,” Steve says. “I-“

“No!” Tony snaps. “Can’t you just stop apologising?”

“I should’ve done better,” Steve finishes. “I’ll do better.”

Which is the best promise Tony can hope for, he supposes.

 

 

* * *

 

 

It happened gradually, but weeks later Steve knows that if he tentatively asks what Tony’s working on as he taps away on his tablet, Tony will humour him and give him a quick summary. He likes seeing Tony work. Hearing Tony explain. They haven’t been in any battles yet but Steve’s feeling better and better about their prospects for swift victory in the next one, and he thinks Tony is too. They’ll be alright.

-but even though he’s been talking a lot more with Tony he still hasn’t talked _enough_ it seems, because when Tony hands him the tablet and it’s open on a video-call to Wakanda, it’s a goddamn shock. Then _Bucky_ walks into the frame and Steve just turns to stare at Tony, who’s giving him a thumbs-up as he rapidly exits the room.

“ _Hey_ ,” Steve says, but then he can’t resist looking at Bucky instead. Bucky gives him an exasperated look from the screen and _yeah_ , that’s how it’s supposed to be. Steve smiles and asks, “How are you feeling?”

 

 

* * *

 

 

There’s another thing Tony is very uncomfortable with in polite conversation! _Thank yous_. Does running from the room to give Steve the privacy to talk to his bestest friend in the whole wide world stop Steve from trying to thank him? No.

Steve corners him in one of the rec rooms, later, and tells him, “It’s kind of you to help Bucky, it’s – it’s very good of you-“

Tony interrupts him solely to say, “Don’t you _thank_ me on behalf of him, Barnes has better manners than you anyway.”

“I know.” Steve smiles fondly. Tony tries to not feel jealous.

“Was it anything else?” he asks briskly. “I’m working.” He gestures at his tablet, on which he’s really been playing a prototype Tetris-based game to amuse himself, but Steve won’t know that.

“No.” Steve keeps smiling at him. “I just wanted to tell you that you’re great. Do you mind if I sit?”

 _Please don’t talk to me about Bucky_ , Tony thinks but doesn’t actually say because he’s not _that_ rude, and says, “Depends.”

Steve sits down on Tony’s sofa and Tony hurriedly closes the Not Tetris app, pulling up a random blueprint instead. Peter’s new suit. That’s fine, he can continue working on that.

“Thank you,” Steve says, out of the blue. “And this isn’t for Bucky – you always did so much for the Avengers and I never properly thanked you before. So _thank you_. You’re a good man and a much better person that I’ve given you credit for, and-“

“Steve,” Tony says helplessly. This is why he doesn’t stick around for anybody to feel _compelled_ to thank him, _god_.

“Tony,” Steve says back.

“You’re welcome,” Tony says, very firmly. “Okay, now stop being weird and-“ he makes a shooing motion.

“I’m not being weird, I’m trying to be polite.” Steve looks at him. “You deserve nice things. You deserve better than us – better than me, certainly-“

“Please don’t,” Tony says.

“Okay,” Steve says.

And then he’s quiet, but he just keeps – not really smiling, but looking at Tony with this really out-of-place soft and warm _look_. Tony can’t focus on anything. So they just sit there as moments pass by, and Tony doesn’t dare move. Steve hurt him, Tony forgave him, and it was all for the team but at the core it’s always been about _them_ , hasn’t it? An inevitable side-effect of you being the protagonist of your own life. And goddammit but Tony _wants_ to trust Steve, and here Steve is. Watching him softly, quietly waiting for him to say something.

“Whatever you think I deserve,” he says, quietly. Looking at Steve to carefully watch his reaction. “I don’t want that. I want us, I want this.”

Steve starts to answer, and then the alert goes off. The screen of Tony’s tablet flashes red and Steve’s phone rings, and it takes them a minute to realise that it means that-

“Avengers assemble,” Steve mutters. Then he offers his hand to Tony.

Tony takes it, and Steve smiles at him dazzlingly bright.

 


End file.
